


Tangled Up In Blue

by Etherea



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, F/M, Humiliation, Kink Negotiation, Praise Kink, Safe Sane and Consensual, Shibari
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:02:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25128199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Etherea/pseuds/Etherea
Summary: Season 5, Episode 4, "HalloVeen"Jake: The only way we're gonna win is if we team up.Amy: Good point. I guess my response is ... rot in hell, crap-face! [GASPS] Also, I love you, and I treasure you, and ya bore me.Jake: God, you're being so mean. Do it more.So this is what would happen if he really did ask her to do it more.
Relationships: Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago
Comments: 15
Kudos: 61





	1. she bent down to tie the laces

“So you remember the heist?”

Amy gave him a new look, one that spoke to a level of incredulous she somehow hasn’t reached before. Jake, though, could not see it. He was staring studiously at his plate, like the three roasted baby potatoes he was pushing around were particularly puzzling clues in the world’s most important crime. 

“The heist? The most recent heist? The heist in which you bamboozled the entire precinct and proposed to me? That heist?”

A beat of silence followed, then, “Yes, that heist.”

“Sure. I remember it vaguely.”

“Do you remember finding me cuffed to the filing cabinet?”   
“Hah! Yes! Ah good times.”

“And do you remember what I said before you left me, all helplessly restrained?”

“Um, something about me being mean?” Amy put her fork down. Jake was not one to idly reminisce. She called up her memory of the day. Moments with Jake always shone a little brighter, so it was easy to picture. “And you...you asked me to do it more?”

Jake was focused intently on one potato now, impaled on his fork and making tiny figure eights in the garlic butter. 

“Jake?” He looked up, head still angled down but eyes peeking up at her. “Is that something you want to try in the bedroom? Cuffs?” He looked down again, and then she noticed the red rising up his ears. He was _blushing!_   
“Ropes.” His voice was quiet, mumbly. Not embarrassed, but...shy. She pressed her lips together, knowing that the huge grin she wanted to give him wouldn’t convey the right message in this sweet but fragile moment. He was offering something here, trusting her to hear him and take him seriously. There was only one word she could say to tell him she understood, so she said it.

“Toit.”

* * *

Amy broached the subject again when they were lying in bed, too keyed up to sleep but thinking too much to unwind in their usual manner.

“What do you want me to be mean to you about?”

“I dunno. It should be something real, I don’t want to invent things for you to criticise me for. I already have so many bad habits, pick one.”

“Jake, I don’t think me harassing you about proper trash separation is going to be very arousing for either of us.”   
“Yeah, I rarely think of recycling or compost when I think of dirty talk.”

They both heard the word and made the connection at the same time, turning to each other and exclaiming in sync, “ _ Dirty _ talk! _ ” _

“It’s true, I am a messy boy!”

“Who knows, maybe this will even help you keep the floor clean!” 

“Don’t hold your breath, but you’re thinking big and I like it!”

* * *

They folded laundry together. Well. Jake folded his laundry, and then Amy refolded his as well as hers. It wasn’t efficient, but it satisfied both of them, and that was the goal in this partnership, wasn’t it? 

“So. Clothes,” she began, and although she was looking down at a pair of trousers, fastidiously creasing each leg, she could have sworn she  _ heard _ Jake raise his eyebrows.

“For, uh. Being mean. Do I need to be in latex?”

“Ew, sweaty, no.” He wrinkled his nose, then frantically backpedaled. “Unless you want to be in latex?”

“I think you nailed it with ‘ew, sweaty, no.’”

“Just...whatever you feel sexy in.”

“Well I don’t know! We’ve dressed up before but this seems like a step up.” Thinking of their honeymoon shenanigans, Amy suddenly remembered something else. “Oh god. Did Charles suggest this to you? He sent rope with us to that resort, is this, do you, is this something you guys talk about?”

“What? No! I found it the way I normally find out about new sex things, by watching porn!”

Somehow that was not as reassuring as Jake meant it to be. 

* * *

What Amy  _ did  _ find reassuring was the binder. 

She hugged the slender blue three-ring folder to her chest. “You made a binder.”

“It’s just a little bit of information, some sketches…” 

“You made a binder.”

“...I know you like to have hard copies and I figured this way I could keep the worst stuff out of your search history...” Jake blushed again and rambled on until she silenced him with a kiss. She held his cheek with one hand and pulled away, bestowing on him once more the warmth of that smile. 

“You made a binder.”

* * *

All up, it took two weeks to work out all the details and line up their days off. Well, the details took a couple of days, but Amy’s stressing about all the things that could potentially go wrong filled out the fortnight. What if one of them dropped dead? What if they  _ both  _ did? What about rope burn? The topic of aftercare had a binder all of its own, including bath product samples. Baths seemed very important in a lot of the material she had read. He let her decide on the contingencies and backups and failsafes. He had already bought a pair of EMT shears, at the same time he’d bought the rope.

  
Jake had walked in on her practicing some ties on herself, once. The sight of her left him breathless, leg crooked up, confident hands lacing and knotting the blue hemp rope they’d chosen together, dimpling her thigh where the encircling strands met the column. It was all he could do to back silently from the room and talk himself down from a sudden and intense arousal.  _ Save it,  _ he told himself.  _ It will be worth it. _


	2. glowed like burnin' coal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The big night arrives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please do not take this as a how-to guide! The contingencies described within are fictional, be sure to have your own real world ones in place. Work with an experienced rigger and do your dang research. A safe bunny is a happy bunny <3

At last, the night had come.

Sure, strong fingers wove that dark rope around his forearms, binding them wrist-to-wrist behind his back. Double strands of it pressed against his skin, warming without burning, never sullying its firm embrace with pain. Over the shoulders next, crisscrossing over the chest, through the cuffs again, then arms bound to his sides. A final flood of touches as the spare length was wrapped neatly around the vertical lines, pressing sweetly on his spine. A bowline knot at each end so it could be undone quickly no matter his position. He flexed, testing the rope and its patterns. Everything held, locked in place by Amy’s sure hands and incessant practice. 

Jake felt  _ held _ . 

The feeling only increased when her fingers carded through his hair. He relaxed from his kneeling position, settling back on his haunches and pressing up, cat-like and hungry, into the caress. His head tilted back until their eyes met.

“Check?” Even this, the first use of their safewords, sent thrills coursing through him. She was so careful and caring, adamant that his trust in her would never be misplaced. Before he could get lost in the cloudy thoughts of lust and love that billowed up in his brain, he gave his answer. 

“Green.” 

Traffic light colours. Seemed only natural, for cops. Amy nodded, and let her expression change subtly, approvingly. From the sound of Jake’s shaky

exhale, he understood. 

There weren’t a great many kinks Amy could see herself participating in without feeling downright silly. Costumes helped, though this time it was simple black lingerie, opaque but clinging so tight it may as well be sheer. She’d tried things before, with other partners, but they always felt like an act, a performance to get through and laugh about later. Looking at her husband, pliant under her touch, shivering with need and desperate to obey, she understood the appeal. Her phone chirped softly, red, yellow and green buttons appearing on the screen. A tap on the green button rendered it silent. 

She picked up a flail from the bedspread. It was made of a softer, silky rope, but dyed the same navy blue as the ones binding Jake. She let the full weight of her authority and strength shine out of her eyes, and he couldn’t tear his gaze away as she slid off the bed and walked down the side to view him in profile. With her free hand she reached out and ran her fingertips over his collarbone, her touch feather light but certain. Jake’s nostrils flared as his breath quickened.

“You’re clean for me. It’s such a nice change. You’re normally so filthy.” 

“...’m sorry,” came his repentant croak. 

“You don’t even try, do you?” Amy let the tails of rope flail trace over his hips. “You know, I think you’re messy on  _ purpose. _ ” Goosebumps burst across his skin, racing upwards in the wake of the flail’s touch. “You know how much I like things clean, and you do the opposite just to annoy me.”

“No, I wouldn’t, I don’t, I...I try.”

The flail whispered through the air and he jolted as it smacked onto his abs. His head lolled back again, mouth open in a choked-off shout.

“Why don’t you try laying back for me? Middle of the bed. See if you can do something I like for once.” 

He hurried to obey, shuffling sideways frantically on his knees. The warmth of her unoccupied hand radiated onto his back; she was spotting him as he lay down, in case he lost his balance or the position hurt his bound arms. The love and care in that gesture had him shuddering. Or perhaps that was the silky rope whip coming up to tease over his nipples. 

She lavished him with soft strokes of the flail and whispered words of praise, until he found his equilibrium. Then she touched him with her warm hands, and he shook apart again every time. 

“You look so pretty like this. I think maybe I should always keep you tied up, if this is the only way you can be good.”

“I do, I do, I can be good for you!”

“Good boys work for their rewards. Come up and get yours.” That warm hand was hovering now several feet about his tight, aching,  _ untouched _ cock, and he burned with the need to have it on him. He arched up to meet her, balanced on his shoulders and the balls of his feet, and when the promised touch was not there, the noise that left his mouth was closer to a sob than a moan. 

“Do you think you’ve been good enough to deserve a petting?”

Jake coughed out an open-mouthed whimper as his shaking legs buckled, and he fell back down onto the bed. Without his arms to brace himself, he couldn’t hold that position long. Words failed him, so he nodded.

“I need to hear you say it. Have you been good enough?”

“I...please, yes, I am...I do, I will do...please touch me, I’m being so good.”

“Oh you are,” Amy crooned, “you’ve been following directions so well. Come back up here and I’ll show you how good boys get treated.”

With a grunt of effort he pushed back up into the bridged position. He could feel the heat of her other hand hovering over his still untouched cock, where it strained and dripped against his stomach. Finally,  _ finally,  _ she grasped him, shocking more desperate noises from him at the sudden firm touch on his hot skin. He willed himself still - she hadn’t said he could move yet - until Amy swung the flail round under him to thwack on his backside. His calves shook as he tensed, muscles twitching under the light hits that nevertheless felt like a bullwhip. She stroked him roughly, the friction eased only by what had dripped from his body so far, punctuating the harsh pleasure with light whippings. Whenever he dropped out of the bridge position she released him, forcing him to reach back up for her touch over and over. It wasn’t until tears began to leak from his eyes and he looked truly at risk of straining his shoulders that she pressed the handle of the whip across his midsection and gently urged him back down to the mattress. When she weakened her grip he sobbed in earnest, hips rutting desperately into her hand. 

“I...I…”

“Louder, my love. You need to tell me.” 

“I...more, please, please hold me, please - aaah!” His begging stuttered to a halt as she gripped him again.

“That’s what you needed, isn’t it? Oh you’re getting awfully sticky. If you like how this feels you’d better not - oh, oh no.” Amy tutted disapprovingly as he came suddenly, bringing the flail fall firmly down on his abs and throwing up splatters where it struck the streaks of come. “Such a mess! Oh, and we were having such a lovely time.” She retrieved a towel - navy, again, she did love a coordinated colour story - and spread it on the bed beside him. “I can’t touch such a filthy boy. You’d better clean yourself off.”

Jake’s throat worked uselessly, speech slow to return in the wake of his release. One shuddering gasp in, and he was able to gasp out, “...my hands...I can’t…”

Immediately Amy was kneeling by his head, one hand on his cheek.

“Jake, check?” Her brows furrowed and her pouty demeanour fell away as she sought his gaze and reassurance. 

“G...Green,” came the breathy reply, and with a relieved exhale, she stood back up. This was still part of the game. 

“Come on then. If you can.” The challenge in her response had his body moving before his mind had caught up, rolling gracelessly over onto the towel. The feel of it pressed against his body, after so long with only Amy’s hands on him, was nearly enough to send him over the edge again. 

“You heard me. I said you need to clean yourself off. Or are you going to be disobedient as well as messy?” Jake whimpered and began to rub as best he could against the towel. With only his legs to help, his movements were hitching and unco-ordinated, and the feeling of so much texture on his neglected skin was torturous. When he lifted his hips up for a reprieve, he was met with another strike from the flail. Vague unvoiced syllables puffed from his lungs and choked out of his dry throat. 

“Tell me how sorry you are for being so untidy, when I’ve been so kind as to touch you. Turn your head so I can hear your apologies.” Amy crooned. Jake moaned into the mattress. Moving to his side, she gently turned it for him. At the sight of his heavy-lidded, unfocused eyes, she dropped into a crouch beside him. “Check. Jake, check. Sweety, give me a colour.” 

Jake’s eyebrows rose and fell, and he blinked slowly, dumbly. He was somewhere else. 

“Red. We’re done, I’m calling it. Red. ” Amy stood and with a quick tug undid the bowline knot holding the rope cuffs to his wrists. Immediately the other ropes loosened, losing their shared point of tension, and the noises Jake made had her kneeling by his head again. She gently stroked his cheek until his eyes refocused and met hers.

“Hi. Those were the longest minutes of my life. You had me worried for a second there.”

“...hi. Wow. I...sorry, I guess I got caught up in the moment. That...that was a lot.”

“Too much?”

“No, it was good! A lot of good. I’ve never...I haven’t felt that before.”

“Well you’ve got to tell me if you start feeling like that again,” Amy scolded. “I know you wanted me to be in charge but I have to know that you’ll stop me if I take it too far.” She rocked back on her heels, pulling her hands away from him suddenly. “I could have really hurt you. Jake, I...you were  _ tied up _ and I could have done  _ anything _ and you couldn’t  _ speak… _ ” 

Jake hauled himself upright on the bed and reached out to her. She looked at his hands but didn’t hold out her own, eyes darting away. 

“Ames. I’ve never asked anyone else for anything like this. There’s no-one I have ever trusted more than I trust you. I know you wouldn’t hurt me and I’m sorry I made you think you could.  _ Ames.  _ Please look at me.” 

He took her reluctant hands and looked up, and as he pulled her up into his lap on the bed, and the tears shining in her eyes started to fall. 

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, “I pushed you too hard. I wanted to make you feel good but I shouldn’t have gotten so into it, I do that with everything, I take it too far, too fast, and go overboard, what was I thinking?” She was crying properly now, guiltily curling in on herself as he stroked her face gently.

“I really thought you were going to be the one doing all the crying.”

“Yeah, well. Women. What can you do?” That earned him a smack on the shoulder and a shaky laugh. “Oh jeez. Sorry, I got jizz all over your nice new lingerie.”

“I think that was kind of inevitable.”

“Do you wanna clean up? Get in that bath?”

“No. Yes. I...can we just stay like this for a minute?”   
“Sure.”

* * *

A steady beeping cut through their moment of peace. “What’s that?” Amy frowned, sitting up. “My phone...oh _ no _ .”

“Yeah it started beeping after you dropped. I figured it was one of your backups and you were just hitting the last colour we’d been at, so I pressed the red button. What do you mean, ‘oh no’? What did I do?”

“It  _ is _ a failsafe app, but it’s...there’s someone on the other end, and if you press the red it sends…” and Amy had just enough time to mumble, “...oh  _ no, _ ” one more time before a huge bang echoed through the apartment. It happened again moments later, louder this time because it was the bedroom door, rather than the apartment door, being kicked in. Rosa stood in the splintered frame, improbably large knife in her hand and fierce, indefinable emotion in her eyes. She turned those eyes, keen and sharp, on the scene before her, and they narrowed. 

“What the hell, Jake. Why is Amy crying? I  _ thought  _ I was here to cut ropes. Now I think maybe I’m here to cut  _ you _ ."

“No no no! Rosa, no! Down, girl!” Amy sniffled and wiped her eyes. “It’s okay!”

* * *

Eventually, they managed to explain what had happened, and Rosa sheathed her knife. She gave both of them over rather more thorough going-over than either expected; checking pulses and pupils, and grabbing them each a bottle of juice from the fridge. She squeezed Amy’s hand as she stood to leave, and paused with one eyebrow raised at Jake. His face froze somewhere between a smile and a grimace. That sort of expression on Rosa could really go either way. 

“That colour is good on you. Dope rope,” she said with a grin, and headed out. 

Jake unfroze a long moment later. “Ah jeez, I could have made a comeback about it being dope because it’s hemp! I’m gonna file that away for next time I see her.”

“At work?”

“...next time we’re drinking together.”

“Drunk together.”

“So drunk we won’t remember what we talked about.”

“Yeah.”

“Cool. Coolcoolcool.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please know that your immediate and enthusiastic response is what has me posting this chapter early! Feel free to point out any typos, I'm a little giddy posting it so who knows what I missed. 
> 
> Kudos and comments are what keep me going in this strange and trying time.

**Author's Note:**

> So this has been tumbling round my brain for two years, fuelled by Jake's continued big bottom energy. Thank heavens I finally finished it. ~~Chapter 2 goes live 10/7/2020 (that's July not October, for any of you silly enough to write the month first)~~ Ah hell, you were all so keen I managed to finish early. 
> 
> Titles from Bob Dylan's [Tangled Up In Blue](https://youtu.be/QKcNyMBw818).


End file.
